


Just Once if I Had the Chance

by theangrymortal



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Ballet!Connor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Human AU, M/M, Poledance/Poledance Instructor!Gavin, chris and tina are still cops, eventually there’s gonna be a lap dance and y’all heauxs WILL Be gagg’t, slow burn (for real this time I promise!!!), tags will be added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrymortal/pseuds/theangrymortal
Summary: Chris has decided to enlist Gavin, the best man of his wedding, to teach all of his groomsmen (Connor included ;-)), a Strip routine so they can crash his fiancé’s bachelorette party in style!





	Just Once if I Had the Chance

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i’ve Been absent for so long! hope y’all like this concept!!! Maybe I can manage an actual slow burn this time goddamn!

Gavin’s upside down, pole clenched in the crook of one knee, holding his weight, while the other is held in a graceful looseness. Like it’s easy, casual. His eyes are closed for a moment, too busy focusing on how he looks in third person to open them. Perhaps it’s a bit cocky, narcissistic, but he _knows_ he looks good.

His hands are flat on his stomach, trailing in opposite directions, leading up to the breakdown of a song playing through his practice room’s speakers at a loud, but comfortable level. 

It finally hits and one hand flings, languid, out above this head, his eyes following the invisible thing (an apple probably, maybe a pomegranate, something forbidden and sexy because, well) held in it. He imagines it falling from his hand, tumbling on the mat below, bouncing, rolling softly onto the less-safe wood flooring. He follows its path with his eyes, letting his hold on the pole loosen, before falling into the mats below. His eyes close and the song ends.

Dead, (but in a sexy way) consumed by a poisonous love. Fucking artistic.

God, he’s so fucking good at this shit.

“Dude, you’re so fucking good at this shit.” Gavin’s eyes flit, seeing everything upside down, in the direction of a familiar voice. Then to the rolled up paper bag clutched in the hands of said voice.

“Did you bring it…” He sounds more out of breath than he feels, and suddenly he’s exhausted. He inhales, quick and deep, and it feels amazing, before lifting his legs and rolling away from the pole, towards the nearest water bottle. He hears a sigh.

“Not even a hello? Just go straight to the-“ Gavin interrupts, cheeky, a smirk lifting his features.

“Hello, Chris.” There’s a beat.

The officer tries (so hard, but he’s losing) to keep his frown from crumpling, but fails, miserably.

“Oh, fuck off, I got it.” He tosses the bag onto the mat, landing it a foot away from Gavin. “Do you want a chair?”

“Nah, I’m cool on the mats. Got more cushion anyway.” Chris shrugs, grabbing one of the foldable chairs by the door and bringing it over to Gavin and unfolding it.

“Ok, so,” he says as he plops into the chair. “I have something of… a proposition for you.”

Gavin makes a noise of acknowledgement as he drinks, eyebrows raised slightly, watching Chris’s leg bounce, before he stops himself.

“So… you know how I’m getting married in a couple of weeks,” He taps his fingers on his knee as he speaks.

“Of fuckin’ course, I’m your best man, dumbass.”

“I realize that was a dumb way to ease into this favor, but _anyway_...” There’s a pause, and it’s like he’s frozen. He thaws. “Ok, please hear me out,”

“I’m _hearing_ , Chris, you have to actually say something.”

“I was _wondering_ … if you would mind teaching me… _andthegroomsmen_ , how to poledance?” Gavin exhales softly, his hands clasped around the bottle in his lap.

“Go on.” 

Chris breathes out a “phew” of relief before speaking again.

“Alright, So I was thinking maybe we could- crash her bachelorette party? I talked with Liz, have you met her?” He pauses, and seeing no recognition on Gavin’s face, continues. “Claire’s maid of honor. But _she_ said she could _act_ like she’s going to call some sexy male strippers,” He makes finger quotes. “-and then we, not saying we’re not sexy, but Tina’s certainly _not_ male, and most of us-” He barely gestures to Gavin, who rolls his eyes at the generalization.. “-are certainly _not_ strippers, we could all come in a cake or some shit, and-“ Gavin lifts a hand from his lap, and raises it.

“I’m gonna stop you there. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” Chris smiles hesitantly, his eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah.”

“So… what do you think?”

“I think you’re not getting the family and friends discount.”

~~~

Connor’s phone buzzes in his pocket once, quieting the music playing through his headphones before a misplaced melodic guitar strum cuts in, but he ignores it, refocusing his mind on the road ahead of him, focusing on the music again.

He can’t hear his hard footfalls crunching on autumn leaves, but he can feel it, even through his tennis shoes. It’s calming, half-as satisfying as it would be without headphones, but he keeps them on. Focus. He doesn’t have time for play. 

Ugh. He sounds like his mother.

He keeps tempo as the song changes, faster than the last. He’ll be home soo-

His music goes quiet, the guitar again, and it throws him off, but he falls back into the beat. Just a bit longe-

The usually less grating sound of guitar echoes through his headphones and he stops all together. A sigh escapes him as he slides his phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt.

As he raises the phone, it lights up, showcasing the first few words of three messages.

_Chris: so… how do y’all…_

_Tina: Chris. You physica..._

_Unknown Number: why am I in this gro…_

It doesn’t take two brain cells to understand Chris has added him into a group chat with… his groomsmen, he guesses. Probably. But what about?

Curiosity overtakes his earlier annoyance as his thumb taps the screen. There’s a moment before it loads up, less than a second.

_Chris: so… how do y’all feel about doing a strip routine at my wife’s bachelorette party… she would be very happy to see all my very hot *eye emoji* groomsmen do a little dance… *dancing woman emoji*_

_Tina: Chris. You physically exhaust me. 1: Wouldn’t your fiancé just want to hang with her girl friends? Are you sure she’s gonna like this? 2: I am not going to be naked in front of your wife._

_Unknown Number: why am I in this group chat,,, we are in the Same room. Also, Tina, wear ur Uniform, even better…_

Connor is a dancer, but he doesn’t… _dance_. His lips curl a bit at the thought. Ballet requires poise, it’s certainly artistic expression, but it’s refined, a show of talent and grace. Not like, this. He huffs a breath through his nose before typing a response.

 _You: Just because I dance doesn’t mean I DANCE, Chris. And two weeks to learn how?_ He presses send and freezes, guilt slithering into his brain, eking out of his ears. It’s a nasty feeling, and he shakes his head of it.

This is his friend’s wedding. Well, not his wedding, but his fiancé’s bachelorette party, but still just as important! Kind of. Well, it’s important to Chris.

 _Damn_. Alright.

 _You: But ok._ That sounds... a bit too dry. _-:^)_ Approved. 

Send.

~~~~

“Who’s this?” Gavin taps his fingertip against the unknown contact, tilting his phone in Chris’s direction.

“It’s Connor.” _Oh._ Gavin doesn’t know why he didn’t expect this. Chris and Connor are friends, why _wouldn’t_ Chris invite him as a groomsmen? Because Gavin doesn’t like ballet dancers? Of fucking course not. The world doesn’t revolve around him.

It’s not like he has anything against Connor in particular, it’s just. _Ballet_. 

Bad memories empty out his chest, and he feels starved for something, before he forces the grimace from his face.

“Ok, so how exactly are we gonna do this shit? I’m gonna need some hours from you to be able to get you and the groomsmen ready.” He keeps talking as he leans over and grabs the neglected paper bag, setting it on top of the water bottle and unrolling it in his lap. “Don’t you have work? Doesn’t Tina?” A strangely mischievous smile makes its way onto Chris’s face before he speaks.

“I’m finally taking my vacation, baby! Almost a month, starting now, two weeks for learning, and a little more than two weeks for me and Claire’s honeymoon.” Chris’s eyes crinkle when he says _”Claire”_ and the obvious love made Gavin’s heart feel a bit less cold.

“Tina?” 

“I already talked with Fowler to see if he’d be okay two weeks without, you know, the _best of the force_ , and all,” He places a hand on his chest, his eyebrows lifting in faux-guilt before his character breaks in a smile. “...He said Tina just has to request off.”

“Fuckin’ nice, man,” Gavin raises a fist and Chris bumps it. “Uh, what about this Connor guy?”

“Oh, nah, his mom’s fucking _Amanda Anderson_ , he doesn’t _have_ to work.” 

“Wha-? _Are you fuckin’ with me?_ ” 

Chris purses his lips, shaking his head, some kind of pride at even _knowing_ the Prince of Ballet.

Absolutely no fucking way. The highest paid ballerina in the game, one half of _the Pas de Deux_ , before her husband (at the time) snapped his Achilles and never recovered. She was still an active ballerina when he was _learning_ dance, but as gracefully as she performed, she retired.

Connor’s _her_ son? Possibly _Hank (fuckin’!!) Anderson’s_ too...? Doesn’t matter, either way, he’s a fucking _heir._

“ _But_ he _does_ do ballet competitions and ads, but I’m pretty sure it’s not in our window.”

Gavin can barely hear him, a distant part of him ridiculously excited to meet the man raised by the dancers he used to idolize, and a closer, more present, part overwhelmed with dread to come to terms with something so _close to home_. He mumbles a “yeah,” and hopes Chris doesn’t question him. It’s futile.

“You good, man?” Gavin sighs.

“Yeah, it’s just-...” The paper bag, still unemptied, crinkles in his grip, and the noise makes Gavin instinctively release. 

“Listen, Gav, I know how you feel about ballet,” Breath hisses through his teeth. “ _I get it_ , but Connor’s not really like that, _well_ , he’s a _little_ like that, but he’s a cool dude.” Chris sets his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, an attempt at comfort, and smiles in a way that’s like a request. 

“Why else would he be one of my groomsmen?”

**Author's Note:**

> :-))) meeting to come
> 
> lol, i’ve Had this particular idea since I first started working on gavpls but I only just got to writing it!!
> 
> I’m taking a month off of work so I plan on only writing, and playing red dead 2 baby!!! >;-))


End file.
